


A Haunted Movie Night

by lizlybear



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Felching, Ghosts, Haunting, Horny Stiles Stilinski, Kissing in the Rain, M/M, Masturbation, Pack Nights, Pining, Poltergeists, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Scared Stiles, Scary Movies, Top Derek, Top Derek Hale, Top Derek Hale/Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Voyeurism, a haunting in beacon hills
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 17:19:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10223276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizlybear/pseuds/lizlybear
Summary: Pack movie night, a possible haunting and Stiles gets a delicious distraction from things that go bump in the night.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ister](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ister/gifts).



Stiles wishes his dad a happy graveyard shift, before heading upstairs to change into his comfy clothes. He’s going over to Derek’s place, as they have a movie night planned. The whole pack will be there. He hasn’t seen them in over three months. College is a bitch.

His crush on Derek hasn’t diminished at all in the almost nine months he‘s been away. Every time he thinks he’s over it, he comes back home and falls in love all over again. He’s surprised that Derek hasn’t picked up on it. Sometimes he thinks Derek knows, he just never calls Stiles out on it.

Stiles did try to make a move just before he left for college, but after he got one sentence in, he chickened out. Afraid of rejection, he left without ever telling Derek how he really felt.

Upstairs he picks out his clothes and considers having a wank before going over. Weighing it over, the obvious pro is he won’t be as horny, so he can probably and hopefully, sit next to Derek without getting a hard-on. However, the con is that everyone would know exactly what he did, because he doesn’t have enough time to shower afterwards. Yeah, who does he think he´s kidding, wanking it is. It´s not like they aren’t used to him smelling like that, he spent his teenage years in a constant state of arousal. And fear. Yep arousal and fear, eau de Stiles.

He drops his clothes and lies down on his bed, grabbing his phone. He opens Tumblr, goes to his favourite porn blog, and starts scrolling. He finds a video that looks promising; the top is definitely his type. When he gave up on Lydia, he looked around for the first time in years and realised quickly that his “type” had nothing to do with gender. Lately he noticed that his favourite porn vids all starred tops that looked suspiciously like a local twenty-something alpha.

He starts the video, impatiently skipping the first few minutes, jumping straight to the juicy parts. A slender guy, gagged and blindfolded, is lying on a bed with his hands and feet tied to the bedposts. A device is connected to his steadily leaking cock, which jumps every now and then. Stiles grins, this is so going on his fun-things-to-do-in-bed list. A dark haired, bearded, muscled hunk comes into view. Stiles wiggles his butt, getting comfortable before sliding his free hand down.

He takes a firm hold of his rapidly growing dick and gives it a tug. Before turning his attention back to the video. It appears that the device connected to the blindfolded twink’s dick is doing it’s work because the mewling on screen is increasing. Stiles rubs his cock slowly, with every upward stroke he swipes his thumb over the slit, smearing out the pre-cum.

In the video, Mister Muscle unties slender guy’s legs, turning him over and placing him on his knees. The twink grabs the headboard, spreading his legs. Mister Muscle is now stroking his cock with a glistening hand. Stiles grips his dick tighter, sliding his other hand down past his balls and going straight for his hole. His skims his dry finger over the rim, he shudders and does it again.

He sits up, places his phone against a book on his night stand and grabs his lube. He lays back and slicks up both his hands by rubbing them together. He reaches down again and lets his fingers close around his dick. The smooth, easy glide makes him shiver. Pushing his hand further down, he breaches himself with a single digit.

Slipping in another finger is easy. He gasps and arches his back when he prods his G-spot. He closes his eyes, fucking back on his fingers. It’s not _nearly_ enough, he wants so much more. Adding a third finger makes it better but it’s still not what he is looking for. What he really needs is a cock to fill him up.

He thinks about Derek, and in his mind he can see him kneeling between his legs brutally fingering him open. His hips thrust up and he tightens the hand on his dick, flicking the head with his nail. The burst of pain is giving him the final boost. His body stiffens, white-hot heat surging through his belly, his dick jerks in his hand, spewing jets of cum over his stomach all the way to his chin.  He sighs as he lays there. That was just what he needed. After a few more minutes of boneless lounging he gets up to clean himself off.

******

Arriving at the Hale house is a little funny. Well, at least for him. As he watches every werewolf in the room scrunch up their noses, he knows he didn’t do a stellar job at cleaning himself up. Trying to hide a smirk but not really succeeding, he drops on the couch, and stretches himself out.

“What are we watching?” He looks around and waits for an answer.

Lydia is leaning against Jordan, talking to him quietly. Isaac, Allison, and Scott are squashed together on the love seat, and Erica and Boyd are sitting on the ground on a cushion nest. Peter is being a pretentious douche, sitting in the window bay, drinking coffee and reading a book. Stiles startles when Derek sits down and pushes his feet off the couch.

“We’re watching scary movies,” Derek answers him, while placing three bowls of popcorn on the coffee table.

Oh man, Stiles really didn’t want to watch anything scary. He doesn’t want to think about the things that go bump in the night because they’re probably all real. But alas, he can’t let anyone know he’s a bit of a scaredy-cat. Being the token human is bad enough! So he settles in and hopes that it’ll be a werewolf movie, because that’s an evil he is familiar with.

The first movie they watch is The Possession. Stiles is pretty sure his grandma left them a weird Polish box exactly like that and that it’s sitting in their attic. He’ll have to get rid of it now, screw heritage. He’s not keeping a Ghostbuster trap loaded in his house.

When the credits roll he pushes himself off the couch to get a drink. After a short toilet break, he gets a coke and sits back down in the corner of the couch. Peter gave up pretending to read and migrated to the cosy chair. He’s arguing with Allison and Erica about what to watch next.

For Lydia and Jordan the movie night has come to an end. They get up and prepare to leave. Jordan announces that he has an early shift while Lydia whispers to Stiles to get out while he can, with a knowing smirk. Because, apparently, everyone and their mother knows that he can’t handle horror movies.

After Lydia and Jordan have left, Boyd and Erica confiscate the now unoccupied two-seater. Derek starts the next movie, which happens to be The Conjuring. Stiles has no clue what it’s about, but after thirty minutes he is clutching a pillow to his chest and wishes he was anywhere but watching this movie. No really, even Wendigos are preferable to this stupid, terrifying movie.

His heartbeat must be loud and fast because Derek pauses the movie and looks at him. “Are you okay?” he asks. “Do you really want to keep watching?”

Stiles snorts and ignores how all eyes turn to him. “Yeah, pff I’m not scared or anything. I know perfectly well this isn’t real.”

He looks around the room. Okay, so lying to a bunch of werewolves is stupid. They all know he’s full of shit, but he refuses to back down. He’ll watch this damn movie even if it kills him. Then he makes the mistake of looking at Peter, who raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow and mouths, “ _Are you sure it isn’t real?_ ” Oh god what if it _is_ real?!

He shakes his head and takes a deep breath to calm himself down. “Play the damn movie,” he grumbles and pointedly ignores everyone.

Derek shrugs and presses play. Ten minutes later Stiles nudges Derek with his foot, whispering, “It’s really late.” He waits for Derek to acknowledge that he’s listening, and when Derek turns to look at him he continues. “I don’t want to wake my dad up by going home. I can just stay here, I’ll sleep on the couch. With you, big bad, close by. That’s okay right?”

It’s dark but Stiles can still see Derek rolling his eyes. “Sure Stiles, you can stay over. Can’t have you waking up your father.”

Stiles lets out a breath. For a second he thought Derek would call him out on his bullcrap. He’s sure every werewolf heard the skip of his heartbeat when he lied just now. He settles back and tries to stare past the TV so he won’t have to watch, while still giving off the impression that he’s watching. The noises are giving him goosebumps, and despite not really watching he sees enough to make him shiver in fear. Sweet Lucifer, that woman is fucking scary, and did they have to put in that stupid doll?

Finally, the movie is over, he stretches and yawns. Everyone is getting up and putting on their coats. Stiles says goodbye to them all, before closing and locking the front door.

The house is eerily quiet now that everyone has left. He stands in the hall for a moment, listening to the silence before hurrying towards the stairs, and calls out loud for Derek. He hears an answer somewhere upstairs.

He rushes up and comes to a halt right outside Derek’s bedroom. “What was that?” he asks, entirely out of breath.

“I said stop yelling! Werewolf hearing, remember?”

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” Stiles rolls his eyes at Derek’s back. “Can I shower? I didn’t have enough time earlier. You know, because I was,” he wriggles his fingers at Derek, who huffs and throws him a towel. It hits him square in the face.

He slips into the bathroom, it’s still a bit damp from Derek’s shower but at least the mirror is clear. He turns on the water and strips out of his clothes. Stepping into the shower cabin, he adjusts the heat to his liking. He opens his mouth and takes a deep breath to start singing when the door opens and Derek sticks his head in.

“Don’t you dare!” Derek warns darkly, and the door closes with a bang.

Stiles grins. He loves how predictable he is to Derek. “Don’t pretend you don’t love my version of ‘Milkshake’, I know you do!”

He watches the bathroom fill with steam. He looks at the mirror and hopes with all his heart that nothing will appear in there. While he washes his hair, his mind flashes back to The Grudge when Sarah Michelle Gellar felt that hand in her hair while showering. Despite the Mordor like temperature he begins shivering and suddenly he’s in a hurry to get out of the shower.

He finishes his shower in record time, dries off quickly, ties the towel around his waist and throws open the door. Rushing out, he collides with a warm, firm body.

“Stiles? Are you okay? Your heart is racing.”

“Fuck, Derek! You scared the hell out of me!” He looks up. Derek is so close that he goes cross-eyed. He takes step back and pretends that everything is fine.

Derek lifts an eyebrow at him. Stiles is unwilling to tell him why he’d been in such a hurry, so he pushes past Derek and heads towards the bedroom. He grabs a shirt and a pair of shorts out of Derek’s closet. He drops the towel and steps into the shorts. Pulling on the shirt he turns around to find Derek looking at him with an odd gleam in his eyes. He recognizes the look, but he can’t quite place it.

“Okay, uhm, well… goodnight? See you in the morning and thanks again for letting me crash here.” Not waiting for an answer, he hurries out of the room and down the stairs.

 *******

It’s one thirty A.M and Stiles can’t sleep. He keeps hearing rattling coming from the wall. As he lays there in the dark, listening to the sounds and staring at the dark shadows he just knows he won’t be able to sleep. The minutes seem to stretch into hours. The silence is so oppressive that it’s actually making him hear more noises. 

He must have fallen asleep at some point, because something, not his name being called, wakes him up. He lies perfectly still and doesn’t dare to breathe. He knows with absolute certainty that there’s something or somebody standing next to the couch. Cold fear trickles down his spine.

He tries to convince his brain that there’s no such thing as ghosts. He’s imagining it. He didn’t see that shadow move and he definitely did not hear his name being called just now. After a few minutes of silence he starts to relax a tiny bit. Suddenly there is a loud noise coming from the kitchen.

_Fuck this shit!_ He jumps over the back of the couch and races up the stairs. At the top of the stairs he catches his breath and softly tip-toes to Derek’s room.

He opens the door and sneaks inside. “Derek?” He shuffles closer to the bed. “Derek, are you awake?” Not waiting for an answer, he lifts the covers and crawls into bed.

Derek turns on the light and faces him. “What the hell, Stiles?”

Stiles burrows his head under the pillow and his answer is muffled. “I can’t sleep! I tried, I really did, but the movie keeps coming back to me. And there is something haunting your house. It moved something in the kitchen.

“My house is not haunted. You probably heard the dishwasher. Go back downstairs and go to sleep.”

His fear retreated to the back of his mind and he looks up, letting out a sigh. “But Derek,” he pouts, “What about the poltergeists?”

Derek lets out an amused snort and shakes his head. “There are no poltergeists in this house.”

“In this house?! _In this house?”_ Stiles is not proud of the panic in his voice. “What’s that supposed to mean? Are you saying that there are poltergeists somewhere else? That’s it then, I’m never leaving this bed. You’re are stuck with me. For the night at least.”

“Stiles, please… go back downstairs. Nothing will get you tonight.”

“Damn right nothing will get me tonight. You know why, Derek?” When Derek opens his mouth Stiles interrupts him. “That was rhetorical, because I can tell you why. It’s because I’ll be sleeping here. And nothing will get me because you are the bigger predator, and you will protect me.”

Derek drops his head, sighing in defeat. “Fine, you can stay here. Just go to sleep.”

Only Stiles can’t go to sleep. There’s a practically naked, incredibly hot werewolf next to him. Derek turns around and turns off the light with a click.

Stiles is left staring at Derek’s back. His very naked, muscular back. He‘d like to have Derek on said back. He would love to look down at Derek while riding him. And when Derek can’t take the slow pace anymore, he’ll force Stiles onto his back, fucking right into his tight, slick hole. And Stiles can’t do anything more but hold onto him, marking up that delicious back with his blunt fingernails.

_Oh fuck_. He can’t go there, not now, he chastises himself. There will be no thinking about sex. Sex is bad. So no thinking about it. A soft noise draws his attention away from all things Derek. He looks towards the noise and and sees a dark shape coming out of the wall.

He turns towards Derek and plasters himself against his back, his heart thudding against his ribs. He closes his eyes and starts a mantra. “No such things as ghosts, no such things as ghosts, no such-”

Derek turns on the light, prying Stiles away from his back. “What now?”

“A ghost! It came into the room through that wall.”

“And how exactly did you ‘see’ it? It’s pitch dark in here.”

“My eyes are used to the dark. I saw it because it was a darker shade of black. I swear, Derek. I’m not joking!”

“Fine, I believe you. Calm down.” Derek pulls him against his chest. “We’ll keep the light on.”

Stiles takes a deep breath, nodding yes into Derek’s chest. His very naked, muscular chest. The things he’d like to do to this chest. Suddenly, Derek’s fingers are forcing his face upwards, and he finds himself looking into Derek’s eyes.

“Really Stiles? How can you go from terror to arousal in minutes.”

“I can’t help it. You’re you. And I like you. So my mind just automatically goes to sex the moment I see you.”

Derek is looking at Stiles in wonder, and Stiles can’t really help what he does next. He tilts his head and kisses Derek, desperate to feel Derek’s lips against his own. Seconds go by and Stiles retreats. He opens his mouth to apologise but finds himself incapable of saying anything because Derek has just stuck his tongue into his mouth.

Ghosts and Poltergeists long forgotten, Stiles’s hand finds it’s way into Derek’s hair, pulling him closer. His other hand pushes against Derek’s chest, laying him flat on his back. Swinging his leg over Derek he settles himself just above Derek’s hips.

Stiles breaks the kiss, licking his lips and loving the taste of Derek on them. Looking down at Derek, he flicks a nipple, which pebbles up in response. He smiles broadly and dips down to kiss Derek again. He feels Derek’s eager hands sliding up his thighs, coming to rest on his hips. At last. He licks into Derek’s mouth, meeting his tongue. Their kiss turns hot and heavy in seconds.

Derek lifts Stiles up, and inches him down. Stiles feels Derek’s groan more than he hears it. The moment his ass comes into contact with Derek’s cock, he moans out loud.

He flashes Derek a cheeky grin before swooping back in, pressing a kiss on the corner of Derek’s mouth. He proceeds to languidly kiss his way down Derek’s chest paying extra attention to both his nipples. He licks down the firm six pack abs, following the dark happy trail further and further down, only stopping when Derek puts a hand on his head, applying a hint of pressure downwards.

Looking up, he sees Derek smirking wolfishly at him. He grins back and lets himself be pushed further downwards. “ _Pushy, pushy,_ ” he mutters, pulling down Derek’s black pants eyeing the weeping head of the pretty impressive dick in front of him.

Leaning over it, he eagerly licks at the pre-cum. Derek really enjoys it, at least judging by the soft moans coming from him. He can see Derek’s stomach muscles contract, so he does it again. Stiles sucks in the head, tonguing the slit, sighing in satisfaction when a burst of pre-cum coats his taste buds.

He takes his time to explore the perfect cock in front of him, loving the way Derek’s breath hitches every time he hollows out his cheeks. When he glances up, he sees Derek watching him intently. Not breaking eye contact he lets a finger stray towards Derek’s hole, slowly rubbing a dry fingertip over the rim.

Stiles finally breaks eye contact and pulls off Derek’s dick with a wet sounding pop. Stiles can’t help the noise that escapes him when the fluttering hole draws his finger in. He hears a low, rumbling growl above him and looks up into bright red eyes. A shiver of desire runs through his body.

Derek sits up, and blinks while his red eyes recede to their usual green colour. He kicks off his shorts, and divests Stiles of his before pulling him into his lap. Stiles settles against him, his hands stroking the Wolf's shoulders with eager hands. Reaching over to the side cabinet Stiles rummages through it, coming back with a rather large bottle of lube. He raises an eyebrow and Derek shrugs and says, “Werewolf stamina,” as if that explains it all.

Stiles huffs a laugh and shakes his head. Derek plucks the lube out of Stiles’s hands. Squirting a dollop on his hand, he reaches behind Stiles. The cold, slick finger probing at his hole has him clenching his butt cheeks.

“Dude! At least let it warm first!” Stiles hisses.

Derek doesn’t even blink, he just keeps his finger poised at the clenched hole. Stiles sighs, willing his body to relax. The moment he unclenches, Derek’s finger slips through the tight muscle. Stiles feels a shiver run down his spine the anticipation is slowly creeping to a boiling point.

Having spent so many years fantasising about it, he hopes the actual sex will live up to his probably unreasonably high expectations. He brackets Derek’s face between his hands. Looking into Derek’s eyes he can see the want and desire that he feels reflected back at him. Giving Derek a soft smile, he leans forward and slots his lips against Derek’s.

Stiles loves kissing, it’s so intimate and you can say so much without actually saying anything. Right now he’s telling Derek how much he wants this. When Derek moves his finger, Stiles clenches around it, and he moans into the kiss. Derek’s other hand is holding him open, so the second finger slips in easily. Derek twists his fingers, searching for his prostate. When he hooks his fingers just right Stiles groans and presses down upon Derek’s hand. He can actually feel Derek smirking into the kiss.

Stiles tugs on Derek’s hair in punishment, making the Wolf groan. The burning sensation of the third finger stretching his hole makes Stiles break the kiss. Panting, he leans his forehead on Derek's shoulder. Every time Derek moves his fingers he hits the bundle of nerves, sparks shoot up Stiles’s spine. Stiles is babbling incoherently by the time Derek’s three, sometimes four, fingers move easily in and out of Stiles’s relaxed and sloppy hole.

When Derek pulls his hand free, Stiles actually whines.

“Shhhh,” Derek whispers. “Almost ready. I don’t want to hurt you so we need to get me nice and slick.”

Stiles kisses the shoulder in front of him, nosing his way up Derek’s neck, pecking small kisses along the way. Arriving at the lush, kiss-swollen lips he gives Derek a quick, hard kiss. “I’m ready, I’ve been waiting for years I don’t want to wait any longer. I need you to fuck me stupid.” Stiles doesn’t mean to blurt that out but well his brain-to-mouth-filter is shot at the moment.

When Derek looks like he might say something about it, Stiles shuts him up with a kiss. 

Sitting up, he feels the slippery head if Derek’s cock grazing his left cheek before it’s pushing at his sensitive, relaxed hole. For a moment Derek’s cock is suspended there before the head slips past the rim, encountering almost no resistance.

Stiles places his hands on Derek’s shoulders, keeping eye contact as he relaxes his leg muscles and bears down. Inch by inch he takes Derek in, which takes longer than anticipated. It hurts because Derek is bigger than the three fingers he’s used, but he persists and finally bottoms out. Stiles is oddly proud of himself, sitting still for another moment before he lifts himself up an inch and lets gravity drop him down.

Letting out a satisfied sound, he starts moving up and down trying to find a rhythm. The drag of Derek’s cock inside of him feels fantastic. Derek is making the most delicious noises every time Stiles sinks back onto his dick. His neglected cock is rubbing against Derek’s rock hard abs, steadily dripping pre-cum. He’s getting tired and his leg muscles are straining.

Derek is panting and pumping his hips up in time with the rhythm Stiles has set. When he sees red bleeding into the Alpha’s eyes and feels the sharp prick of nails digging into his skin, he realises how close to the surface the wolf is. Suddenly he needs Derek to lose control, he wants to feel owned. 

“Come on big bad, break me in, fill me up. _Make me cum!_ ”

The low rumbling growl, and the show of fangs are the only warning he gets, because suddenly he is face down, ass up on the bed. Derek enters him in one smooth slide, and doesn’t give Stiles any time to adjust, setting an impossible rhythm. Stiles is reduced to lay there and take it. Just like he wanted. Derek hits Stiles’s prostate pretty much every other snap of his hips, making him whine in the back of throat. Derek’s powerful thrusts keep Stiles from catching his breath.

When he reaches for his own dick, Derek gives a loud warning growl. Stiles stops his hand, but starts inching it down again. The growl is now accompanied by claws digging painfully into his hips. Derek stops fucking him, grabbing Stiles’s hands and placing them just above his head. He keeps one hand on Stiles’s neck and places the other one back on his hip. Stiles is completely at his mercy like this. It must satisfy Derek because he starts thrusting again.

The angle is slightly different, because Stiles feels even fuller than before. Gripping the bed sheets, still trying to catch his breath, he tries to move with the rhythm. After what feels like hours, Derek releases Stiles’s neck. His thrusts become shallow, pushing his cock in to hilt, letting out a satisfied groan when he comes.

Stiles feels Derek’s dick pulsing inside of him. He has never had someone cum inside of him before. It feels odd but not entirely unpleasant. Apparently Derek comes like a horse, because he can feel it trickle down to his balls. Trying to be subtle, Stiles pushes down so the head of his dick rub against the bed. Derek drags him up into a sitting position, so that Stiles’s already sore legs are stretched out again.

Groaning Stiles reaches behind him, placing his hand on the back of Derek’s neck. Derek slides his hand down towards Stiles’s cock. Grabbing the shaft he slowly moves his hand up and down, flicking the head on the way down. Stiles feels Derek mouthing his neck, licking and biting his way up. Softly, Derek bites into Stiles earlobe and whispers, “I love how your body fits mine. You know you’re mine now. No one else gets to see you like this, fuck you like this.” Derek’s hand closes around his throat. “Cum for me, I want to feel you cum while I’m inside of you.”

Stiles feels his balls draw up and sparks ignite in his lower belly. He comes with a shout, arching his body and clenching his hole.

Finally able to catch his breath, Stiles slumps in Derek’s arms. Derek manoeuvrers him onto his side while carefully pulling his cock out. The rush of cum flowing out feels weird, but he’s too tired to complain. When Derek rolls him onto his stomach and spreads his cheeks, he whimpers and tries to pull away.

“Let me,” Derek says quietly and Stiles stops squirming.

The first tentative lick over his hole has him hiding into the pillow. A hot flush spreads through his body. “Fuuuuck. Yeah okay, we’re doing this.”

Stiles is aware that he’s babbling, but while Derek is tonguing the sensitive rim, all he is capable of is weakly pushing his ass onto Derek’s face. Somehow the thought of Derek eating his own cum out of Stiles’s sore and abused hole is not repulsive at all. If he hadn’t come like five minutes ago, he would probably be coming again right now. Derek is licking and sucking away, cleaning him up in minutes. Stiles feels boneless but he still manages to turn himself around, tugging Derek up. Derek is wiping his face with a pair of discarded shorts. Stiles only hesitates a millisecond before pulling Derek into a dirty, scorching kiss.

After a few minutes of languidly kissing each other, Derek turns Stiles on his side and spoons up behind him. Stiles has his eyes closed when he hears the click of the light switch.

Suddenly his mind is back on poltergeists and ghosts. He scrapes his slightly sore throat. “Uhm Derek? About those poltergeists?”

“For fuck’s sake, go to sleep!”

“Fine, but I’ll have you know that if I get eaten by a ghost, I’ll come back to haunt your furry ass.”

“Ghosts can’t eat people, now you’re just being stupid,” Derek murmurs against the back of neck.

“I said good night, _sir_!” Stiles sleepily exclaims.

 *****

 Downstairs in the living room Laura Hale is dejectedly kicking against a kitchen cabinet, making it rattle. She turns to the floating figure coming through the wall across from her. “Did you actually watch them have sex?"

The ghostly figure of Paige Krasikeva shrugs. “Not my brother. And it’s not like I had something better to do.” She grins. “You should really watch next time because, fuck me, that was hot!”

Laura pulls a face. “Yeah, that’s not happening anytime soon.” She turns towards the fridge, eyeing the alphabet magnets. A plan forming, she floats across the kitchen, dragging Paige with her.

*****

He must have been fucking tired, because the next time he opens his eyes it’s to the bleak morning light coming in through the large skylight. Stiles becomes aware of his bladder about the same time he realises he really doesn’t want to get up yet. His bladder wins out of course, so he tries to delicately move Derek’s arm off his waist. It results in Derek actually tightening his arm.

Stiles is not having that. “Wake up and let me pee, cave man!” he says loudly into the room.

He can feel Derek startle and he snickers into the pillow. Derek rolls over with a grunt and Stiles rushes to the bathroom. After relieving himself, he notices how gross and sticky he is. A shower is definitely in order. He looks around the bathroom and finds Derek’s toothbrush. After brushing his teeth and turning on the water he yells out, “Oi Big Bad, I’m showering. If you don’t want me to sing, get your delectable ass in here!”

Two seconds later the door opens and Derek enters the bathroom. “How many times Stiles? Werewolf means super hearing, which _means_ no yelling.”

“Yeah, yeah blah. Brush your teeth before you get in here, I need me some werewolf kisses without the morning breath.”

Fifteen minutes later Stiles sighs as he turns off the shower. “Kissing in the rain is the absolute best.”

Derek looks at him. “A shower is not rain, Stiles.”

“Semantics, Derek. It’s basically the same thing.”

Derek just shakes his head and herds him out of the bathroom. Stiles is putting on Derek’s sweatpants when Derek remarks “Years? You wanted me for years and yet you never told me.”

“Jeez Louise, leave it to you to start the awkward conversation before breakfast.” He takes a deep breath. “Okay. Yes, I’ve liked you for years. I had no idea if you would ever look at me like that. So I told myself it’s better if he never knows, that way you couldn’t reject me and I would always have the possibility. If you know what I mean.”

Derek nods. “Yeah I get that, it’s the same reason why I never said anything to you.”

Stiles lets out a frustrated groan and lets himself fall back onto the bed. “Sweet Lucifer, we’re idiots. We could have been having sex years ago!”

Derek laughs at that and drags him to his feet. “Come on, I’ll make you breakfast.”

Stiles doesn’t let go of Derek’s hand. “Okay lover-boy, lead the way.”

Walking into the kitchen have them both stopping short in their tracks. There on the fridge is a untidy spelled message: ‘LH & PK HERE WATCNG’. Stiles notices that the second E is a turned M.

“It’s just the dishwasher, nobody called your name, no such thing as poltergeists.” Stiles mutters.

Derek turns towards him. “We need a medium.”

“Yeah, all right, after breakfast okay? I need energy before tackling this.”

Derek looks at the fridge with a thoughtful expression before nodding.

 *****

Laura sighs. Finally! Now she only needs to tell Derek where to find the key. Paige comes floating down with a giddy expression on her face. “I loved watching kisses in the rain.”

Laura has no idea what’s she babbling about, but then she never really listens to Paige anyway.

 

Fin

**Author's Note:**

> I had fun writing this, I hope you enjoyed reading it.


End file.
